A/N: Hello everyone. Thanks so much for all the reviews! Well, here's the latest chapter. I'm so happy because I bought the Gaston Leroux book today, and this other book that has the entire script to the movie with pictures, and behind the scenes stuff. I got it at Borders if you're wondering. Ok, here you go. Please review!

-Modesty

Chapter Three: A Voice in the Dark

"Alright, alright," the director said, sitting in one of the seats of the giant opera house. "Lets see it again- from the top."

Claire sat next to father, a few rows behind the director; she was reading the script of the play as the words were practiced onstage. She and her father had been watching the regular rehearsals for three long days now.

Claire looked up from the pages of the script, biting her lip with boredom. As interesting as the play was to her, rehearsals were never exciting for her, unless she was in them.

Standing up, Claire left the script on her seat. She paced over to the door near the stage to lead to backstage, and she quietly opened it. Madame Giry saw her, and nodded. Claire smiled back. She looked around for Adeline.

Suddenly, she heard raised voices coming from the prop room. She hadn't ventured there since she first had, but she tried not to think of her first experience, for she wanted to see who was making all that noise.

"Claire- Claire!" Adeline shouted to her, her eyes ablaze.

"What ever is it?" Claire asked.

"Come in here quick!" Adeline waved her into the room.

"What is it?" Claire repeated her question, wondering what ever could cause Adeline to be so excited.

Arielle, the girl who was chosen to take the place of Carlotta, sat in a wooden chair near one of the prop display tables. Her face was white, and she was staring at a large painting that leaned up against the dark brown wall.

Claire wondered what ever happened to her. "He was here," Adeline explained. Arielle then turned around to face them, holding an unopened letter in her trembling hand.

"I found this," she said, handing it to Claire; her voice a little shaky.

"How do you-" Claire stopped herself.

Claire stared at the seal of the letter; a blood red wax skull stared back at her. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she carefully opened the letter.

"I felt someone watching me and I looked up," Arielle said, wide eyed. "I turned around, and no one was there, but he left this on the floor. I don't think I've ever been so frightened," she shook her head.

"It's addressed to my father," Claire breathed, wide eyed. "Arielle," she said, glancing at the still quite pale girl. "Why were you back here, anyway? Shouldn't you be at rehearsals?"

"I had forgotten my tiara," Arielle blushed sheepishly. "I only came back to find it."

"I see," Claire turned to face the portrait on the wall. It was taller even than her. It was a beautiful portrait of a young woman with a crown; probably a queen, but she must have been fictional for Claire did not recognize her.

"I-I should be heading back," Arielle said, coming to her feet.

Claire, however, ignored her. Her attention was clearly focused solely on the painting. "This is a door," she said, gliding her slender fingers between the wall and the picture's wooden frame that was painted to appear as gold.

"A what?" Adeline asked, confused.

"Let's see," Claire gently started sliding the painting to her right. Adeline helped her, though the painting itself wasn't too heavy.

Behind the painting, there was nothing but wall. "There's nothing," Adeline said, a little disappointed.

"Things aren't always as they appear," Claire said, feeling around the wall for some sort of lever or handle. She knew that many theatres had trap doors that were used to allow items of large proportion or weight to travel on stage.

She had nearly given up, feeling and seeing nothing on the wall that would resemble anything at all close to a handle. She took a step back, trying to get a better view, and as she did so, she felt something beneath her right foot.

There was a tiny lever on the floor that, when she lifted her foot in surprise, swiftly disappeared into the floor, and in a split second, the wooden floor beneath her gave way.

She did not fall far, but she yelled in alarm. "Claire?" a shocked Adeline called to her from above. Claire's head was only a foot or so from the surface of the hole.

As Claire looked up to say she was alright, the trap door shut, and she was sheathed in darkness. The door opened again, for Adeline purposely stepped on the lever. "There you are," Adeline whispered in relief.

"I'm fine," Claire said, just as the door slammed shut again. Then it opened again.

"We'll get you out," Arielle yelled to Claire from above.

The door shut and opened once again. "No," said Claire. "I'm going to see where this leads!"

The door closed, and when it opened again, Adeline peered down, but Claire was gone. "Claire?" she called out, but there was no answer.

"What are you two doing?" snapped a strict voice; it was Madame Giry. Both remaining girls jolted upright.

"Nothing," lied Adeline.

"I-I found it," Arielle pointed to the tiara on the table of masks.

"Good," Madame Giry said crossly. "Now let's go. Monsieur Andre wants to see the end of the scene today!"

"Of course," Adeline said quickly, and after, all three ladies left the room, Adeline glanced back once again at the trap door, which remained uncovered by the painting.

Everywhere Claire turned there was darkness. She could hardly tell where the floor met with the walls of the tunnel, or whatever she was in. She had no depth perception and was beginning to regret her decision to travel down there. Curiosity was the first thing she felt. Where was she? Why was there a passage there, and was it still used? More importantly, why was it hidden?

After several minutes of wandering in pitch blackness, Claire finally began to see dim lights ahead. She began to walk a little faster towards them.

As she came closer, she found that the lights were torches hoisted on the stone walls of the tunnel. Still, however, Claire saw no end before her. "Hello?" she called out warily. "I- is anybody here?"

She traveled on in this maze for a few minutes more, shivering in the cold. "Don't be afraid," she whispered to herself. "It's only a deep dark tunnel underground…nothing to be worried about…" She stopped as she came to the first fork in her path.

She decided to take the right route, hoping it would lead her up and out of the darkness. She began to hum, and suddenly, in the far off distance, she could hear a voice. Someone was singing.

At first, her blood froze, and she stood perfectly still, breathing softly. Then she thought, as long as she knew where the voice was, she knew where its owner was, and that was a slightly comforting thought- but it didn't last long.

To Claire's utter dismay, she found that the voice was all around her, and though it was so far off that she couldn't make out the words to the song, she could hear it all around her, as if she was surrounded.

"Where are you?" she called out. Hello?" The man's voice suddenly stopped. All she could hear then was her heart pounding in her ears, and the heavy breaths she took. "Who are you?"

"Who is this who enters my domain?!" the man's voice boomed. Claire's heart pounded as she jumped, backing into the wall with fright.

"My name is Claire. I-I am lost Monsieur- please," Claire stuttered, wishing she had not gone down there in the first place.

"Is that fear I sense in your voice?" Erik teased.

Claire swallowed hard. This is absurd, she thought. Don't be afraid Claire, don't be afraid. "No, Monsieur," she finally spoke up."I am not afraid. And if you would find amusement in my fear, then I'm sorry to disappoint you." In reality, she was quite frightened, but she didn't want him to know that.

"And what business is that which has brought you here?" Erik questioned, heatedly.

"I only happened to stumble upon a path," Claire explained.

"How unfortunate- you're presence is not welcome here," spat Erik.

"And I wish not to be here," Claire retorted. "So you would make both sides pleased if you were to tell me how I can find my way out, and I will leave you in peace."

"Why not go back in the direction which you came?" was Erik's reply.

Claire was silent a moment, contemplating his response. She would go back, if she could remember the way. She had been through so many twists and turns, she knew she could not remember, or would have no luck in finding the way back.

When Claire remained silent, Erik spoke up. "And why should I lead you out, knowing that you would tell others of this sacred place?" he asked.

"If you asked it of me," Claire began. "I would tell no one."

"Then I do request that you keep your silence," Erik responded coldly. "But your word is not enough to convince me. What more can you do that would persuade the Phantom to free you?"

"Please Monsieur," Claire began, hopefully. "Whatever you ask of me; just tell me the way out." Erik remained silent. "I would assume that you want me out of your, as you would call it, domain, just as much as I want out. Please Monsieur…"

"Then promise me you will not breathe a word," Erik's deep voice filtered through the mysterious tunnels in song.

"You shall have my tongue," sang Claire.

"Promise me."

"I give you my word; I promise…"

"Very well," Erik agreed coldly. "You will have your way, and I shall lead you out." Claire smiled, standing up straight. "Follow the sound of my voice."

"I will follow you," Claire did as instructed, finding it relitivly easy to follow the Phantom's smooth voice as he led her through the tunnels in a song which she did not recognize. It was a dark song, she could tell by the lyrics.

Through more dismal paths, she ventured, narrowing her eyes to glimpse in the darkness. Eventually she came to a point where from then on, there were lights hung on the walls of the tunnels. Erik's voice was louder and clearer then, and Claire found it easy to follow. In a matter of minutes, the Phantom's song led Claire to the end of a tunnel.

She felt the wall before her- it was wood, not stone like the rest of the maze. Claire noticed at her feet was a small vent; she could see light coming from inside.

Feeling for a latch on the wooden door, she found it, and the wooden door slid open. Claire gratefully climbed through, and into a dimly lit room, adorned with brightly burning candles.

A smile crossed her lips, and the door behind her closed. "Thank you, Monsieur," she said, gratified; but there was no reply. The singing was gone; the Phantom was gone.

Claire glanced around her. Where was she? Claire was in awe at the beauty of the room. To her left, there was a large brightly painted stained glass window with a picture of an angel. The window let in striking shades of light that were cast upon the floor.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps just outside the room, and she exited, opening its closed door, and finding a set of stairs that curved upward in a dark hallway. She climbed the stairs, noticing a maid in the hall.

The maid's back was to her, and she held a brown feather duster in her hand, dusting off the many portraits that hung on the wall. The maid turned around with a startled expression as she heard Claire coning towards her.

"Madame?" she asked, startled. "What are you doing down here?"

"Sorry," Claire quickly apologized. "I-I got lost, you see. Umm… I was exploring."

"Curiosity, curiosity," the maid seemed to be scolding as she shook her head. "Come; you are Madame Claire?" Claire nodded. "Alright, then come with me. You're father is looking for you."

"Oh no," Claire muttered under her breath.

The maid quickly led Claire back into the main entrance of the theatre, where Claire saw her father speaking with Madame Giry, his arms folded tightly across his chest, and his back turned to them.

"There she is," Madame Giry said, looking up as she saw Claire being led by the maid out of the hallway.

Monsieur Andre turned around. "There you are," he said. "Where have you been?" He looked at the wrinkled letter Claire still held firmly in her hand.

Claire followed his gaze, remembered what she had in her hand, and gave it to her father. "This is for you," she said as Andre took it.

He stared blankly at the strange skull seal, and then opened the letter with a frown. "Where did you get this?" he asked, his eyes remained fixed on the contents of the letter.

"Arielle found it in the prop room," Claire sad truthfully. Andre folded up the letter, placing it back in its envelope. "What does it say?" Claire asked.

"It says," Andre began in a frustrated tone. "It states that I should be aware of the Phantom's presence, and it is a reminder that his salary is due! His salary?" Andre scoffed. "And he also says that I should remember to keep his seat in box five open for all future productions!" Andre glanced up at his daughter then back down to the letter. "Signed OG. I don't believe this," he grumbled.

"Believe it," snapped Mme. Giry. She caught Monsieur Andre's eye. "It would be best of you to do as he says."

"Twenty thousand franks?" he grumbled. "If this man wants to know, I am aware that he's here," he rolled his eyes. "And I'm very much tired of these letters!" he said walking up to a trash bin and dropping the letter inside. Mme. Giry watched his every move with her usual intense eyes.

Claire's mind was fluttering with thoughts as she watched her father return to her. "Come, Claire," he said. "It's time I think we should retire for the evening. Madame Giry," he nodded goodbye to her.

"I'll see you tomorrow Monsieur," was her reply. "He did warn you," she sighed, hoping that Andre would just do as the Phantom asked.

Scarletquill: I'm glad you like the story. Thanks for your review

Dark-archer-elf: Yeah, every good story should have mystery.

Crazy Neko: Thanks for your review. I'm glad you find the phic enjoyable.

Phantomsangel102: Thanks so much for the review! I like your story too.

Horse-Crazy-Girl: Yeah, some people can be kinda mean. That sucks, but I liked your story. Thanks for the review!